


Lancashire Hotpot

by incoherentpiffler



Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Leonard is poorly and doesn't want any help, M/M, Nursing, Sick Character, daniel is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 14:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incoherentpiffler/pseuds/incoherentpiffler
Summary: Daniel has been called to the vicarage on account of Leonard who is apparently unwell. He gets the chance to look after the curate who is rather against the idea of being cared for.





	Lancashire Hotpot

'Doctor here for Mr. L.E. Finch,' Daniel inquired in jest, to the socked foot poking from the bed. 'I do hope it isn't contagious. I haven't brought a mask.'  
  
Leonard grunted and revealed his tousled head from the bundle of bedsheets, squinting. He was sickly pale and sweaty, and it looked as though the matted curls on his forehead had been freshly licked by a cow. Or Dickens.  
  
'Daniel...' he managed, before being disturbed by a sneeze. Rubbing his eyes, he watched as his friend closed the door behind him. 'What are you...'  
  
'I'm here to play nurse,' Daniel chuckled, much to Leonard's unease. 'Will called. Said you nearly collapsed in the vestry yesterday.'  
  
The sickly curate snuffled, sighing. 'I'm... fine.'  
  
'Leonard, you _know_ that is a lie.'  
  
'I'm-'  
  
'Sick. You are sick. Will told me.' Daniel smiled worriedly. 'And I intend to keep all eyes on you.' He sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the back of his hand to Leonard's gleaming forehead. He was swelteringly warm. 'You need looking after.'  
  
Leonard frowned. He was embarrassed to feel so very child-like. 'Mrs. C won't be t-too impressed,' he mumbled.  
  
'Mrs. C is the last of my worries, Leonard. She and Jack are in town today, apparently - now,' he looked at Leonard. 'How on earth have you managed this?' He smoothed the hairs from his face, concern in his eyes. 'Someone spit into the communion wine?' He jested.  
  
With a pout, Leonard fidgeted. 'I don't know.'  
  
He made an attempt to sit up against the headboard, but Daniel placed a hand on his shoulder, easing him back down.  
  
'Whatever it is, you are not leaving the vicarage, and I will make sure that you don't.' To this, Leonard rolled his eyes. 'I don't want you fainting in the pulpit or sneezing on parishioners, and I am _quite_ sure you wouldn't want that either.'  
  
Leonard sneezed again, catching it on a crumpled sleeve. 'I suppose not.' He gazed up at Daniel through weary eyes. 'B-but, what am I to do?'  
  
'Rest yourself.' _Something I doubt you ever do_ , thought Daniel, adjusting himself to be seated closer to the curate. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, leaning on his elbow to wipe Leonard's runny nose. 'I don't think I've ever seen you so unwell,' Daniel admitted with concern. This was true, as the last time Leonard had any sort of fever was the sunstroke he acquired at the summer fête two years ago.  
  
'It's nothing, really.'  
  
Daniel sighed.  
  
'You can keep saying that, _Len_ , but I won't believe you.' He smiled softly. 'After all, you would be dressed by now, on any normal day-'  
  
'Why? Wh-what time is it?'  
  
'Twenty-to twelve.'  
  
'My word.' He placed a hand to his mouth.  
  
Daniel chuckled softly, and leant to kiss him gently on the forehead. As he was sitting back up, Leonard reached for his hand and, shakily, pressed a kiss against his fist.  
  
'Read with me,' he tentatively asked.  
  
'Of course,' Daniel said, taking off his jacket as he stood from the bed.  
  
Leonard, snuffling, retrieved his beaten copy of _Crime and Punishment_ from the bedside table. Daniel neatly folded his jacket and kicked off his shoes, placing them by the door. He chuckled softly at the sight of his lover, who had already started reading.  
  
Joining Leonard on the bed carefully, he looked at the pages. ' _Dostoevsky_? Haven't you read this a handful of times before?'  
  
'Yes,' Leonard mumbled, moving slightly to rest his cheek on Daniel's chest. 'People say it's good for you,' he looked up at Daniel who had started stroking his hair, 're-reading something.'  
  
'If you say so.'  
  
Daniel watched him read and listened to his occasional sniffing, the rustle of pages turning every now and again.  
  
  
It didn't take very long at all for Leonard to fall asleep.  
  
  
_Poor suffering lamb_ , Daniel thought. He eased the book from his hands and placed it beside him, then sat for a while, stroking Leonard's hair.  
  
He waited for the church to strike twelve, which surprisingly didn't wake the curate, and carefully stood from the bed.  
  
With a kiss on Leonard's forehead, Daniel quietly went downstairs to find Will and Dickens in the sitting room. Will sat up from reading his magazine and beamed at Daniel, who stood in the doorway.  
  
'Ah, Daniel.' He rubbed the back of his neck. 'I trust Leonard is alright?'  
  
Daniel bowed his head. 'He's asleep,' he said. 'Quite run down, poor thing.'  
  
'H-m.' Will smiled softly at his concern. 'Do you need any help with anything? I can fix you some coffee, if you'd like.'  
  
'I'm fine, thank you,' Daniel tugged on his ear, grateful for Will's kindness. 'Though I don't suppose I'd be permitted to use your kitchen? I've brought supplies for some lunch for our patient up there.' He signalled to the ceiling with his hand.  
  
Chuckling, Will stood and patted Dickens on the head. 'You're free to it-'  
  
'Thank you. For all this.'  
  
'Not at all,' Will grinned and squeezed past him, leading him through to the kitchen. 'I know he'd much rather have you than me.'  
  
Daniel nodded. 'He's quite adamant he needs no help,' he admitted, laughing softly. 'But that's just typical for him.'  
  
'Yes - I have noticed that.'  
  
Will leant on the sink and watched Daniel, who had started to unpack a wicker hamper onto the counter top. This wasn't the first time Daniel had made use of their kitchen as, on many occasions, he had taught Leonard how to cook; usually when Mrs. C was away.  
  
'Anywhom, I'll leave you to it.' The vicar whistled Dickens, who came padding to his ankles. Daniel chuckled gently.  
  
'Will, thank you, so much.'  
  
'Not at all.'  
  
He retrieved Dickens' lead from the kitchen table and beckoned the labrador, quiet mutterings of _good boy_ , _let's get going then_ , as he left.  
  
Daniel sighed, smiled, then began to peel some potatoes.  
  
  
  
Leonard was woken by Daniel who had returned to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
'...Did I fall asleep again?' He mumbled.  
  
'Ye-es.' Daniel smiled gently and placed a steaming bowl into his hands. 'I thought you might be peckish.'  
  
Leonard wiped his nose, sniffed, and sat up. 'I suppose I am.' He looked at Daniel, who was smirking. 'Is this...'  
  
'Lancashire hotpot.' Daniel rested his ear on the headboard and watched sickly Leonard's eyes slowly lighten.  
  
He smiled weakly. 'My mother used to make it for me,' he ate a spoonful. 'Every-'  
  
'Wednesday night,' Daniel continued. 'I remember you telling me.' He moved to sit beside him, kissing him on the cheek.  
  
Leonard sighed shakily. 'Thank you.'  
  
'It's quite alright,' Daniel murmured, kissing him again, softly. 'Someone needs to look out for you.' He raised an eyebrow. 'Even if you can be _rather_ stubborn, sometimes...'  
  
'H-m.' Leonard pouted. 'Sorry.' He turned and kissed him, carefully, on the cheek.  
  
_Don't you apologise for anything_ , thought Daniel.

Leonard continued to eat, Daniel watching as some colour was restored to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his ears. He smiled gently.

'I'll make you a cup of tea.'  
  
'That would be delightful.'  


**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my phone's notes for an absolute age and lots of people have been mentioning their need for more Leonard/Daniel, so I finished it off.
> 
> It's less than a month till I'm completely free of exams and everything so hopefully I'll have the time to write something longer, and perhaps with chapters! Who knows.
> 
> 'Poor suffering lamb' is partly derived from the lovely Busman's Honeymoon; "Peter, my poor, long-suffering, heroic lamb—pour it into the aspidistra;" poor Mrs Twitterton's parsnip wine.
> 
> If anyone has any other ideas for Leonard and Daniel I am open to suggestions. I would quite like to take them on holiday.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :) x


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